Tuesday, March 22, 2016

HART Theatre’s latest offering, Becky’s New Car, asks a question rarely addressed in theater (but all too often encountered in real life): how should we react when a good person does a bad thing? Does the good person become a bad person? Does the bad thing become OK? Or do we just roll with clichés like “nobody’s perfect” and get on with our lives? Director Dorinda Toner and her cast have a great deal of fun delving into playwright Steven Dietz’s script and milking it for both its comedic and philosophical richness.

The story is convoluted and implausible, rife with stereotypes and characters whose quirks and neuroses would seem way over-the-top in a more conventional production. The show’s salvation is twofold: first, there are lots of just plain funny lines (“so there you have it – my son was loaded and the dishwasher was not”). Second, the show is self-consciously theatrical, with no pretense at maintaining the “fourth wall.” As the audience is actively incorporated into the show at several points, we are insiders rather than spectators, engaged with the cast and relieved of the burden to suspend disbelief.

Middle aged, middle class Becky is having an “is that all there is?” moment, fed up with her roles as office manager at the auto dealership and chief cook and bottle washer at home. Husband Joe is a hard-working roofer, steady and loyal but taciturn to a fault, and uncomfortable with sharing his feelings – as he says, “I’m a roofer. I cover things up.” Son Chris, a twenty-something psychology grad student, lives in the family basement and expresses himself only in pretentious psychobabble while driving his mother crazy with his slovenly habits and self-absorption.

Late one night at the dealership, in charges multimillionaire Walter Flood, a socially inept widower who suddenly sees Becky as the pathway out of his grief. A comedy of errors follows – Walter thinks Becky is a widow, and relentlessly pursues her. Becky never quite gets around to correcting Walter’s mistake. She begins a secret double life on Walter’s remote island estate that cannot possibly last. When Joe, Walter, Chris, and Walter’s daughter Kenni discover Becky’s duplicity, chaos naturally ensues.

Patti Speight is brilliant as Becky – outgoing, scattered, and so darned likeable that we just can’t be mad about her tangled web. She’s dead wrong in her prediction that the audience will end up liking her less than husband Joe (David Roberts), although he’s a pretty sympathetic character too. Roberts is definitely at his best in Act 2, when things get serious and we see a bit of the impassioned man beneath the shell. Carl Dalhquist (“Chris”) is annoyingly funny in Act 1, but has the most impact when he loses it – like Roberts, Dahlquist sheds his composure in the second act, moving from smug observer to an emotionally engaged participant in his own life. The other key performance is Bryan Luttrell’s “Walter.” It can’t be easy to be that befuddled, clueless, and harmless while playing the role of the other man, but Luttrell pulls it off. It helps that there is so little sexual chemistry between Becky and Walter that the audience is not forced to imagine them in the throes of an affair.

The set is simple, in keeping with the surrealism of the script. Becky’s office and living room share the stage with Walter’s terrace, and two chairs serve as Becky’s car(s). Lighting, with some cues called out by the cast, directs the audience’s attention to the right zone. This adds up to zero time lost to scene changes – always a plus!

Director Toner has assembled a fine ensemble cast and given them the space they need to express both the comic and more serious elements of this unusual show. It is safe to say that first-time audiences cannot be prepared for everything they will see – and it’s a show that may well merit a second visit to catch nuances missed the first time around.

Becky’s New Car is playing at the HART Theatre, 185 SE Washington, Hillsboro through April 3, with performances at 7:30 on Fridays and Saturdays and 2:00 on Sundays.

Monday, March 7, 2016

In the proud tradition of generations of English majors, I
always hated Moby-Dick, Herman
Melville’s massive 19th century whaling novel. I had no opinion at
all about Orson Welles – he wasn’t in the syllabus, and I never really got the
fuss about Citizen Kane. Thus I
walked into the Venetian Theatre for opening night of Moby-Dick, Rehearsed, expecting a well-staged, well-acted,
well-directed (it is, after all, Bag & Baggage) evening of wordy
pretentiousness with a few gems of real story buried in a mass of ponderous
blubber. I was dead right on the first three counts, but amazed to be
completely wrong about the last part. Welles’ adaptation for the stage may not
be everybody’s cup of krill, but it provided me with a couple of hours (barely
enough time to get through Chapter 1 in the book) of challenging, moving,
sometimes fun theater.

To understand the play, it helps to have a basic grasp of
the Moby-Dick story (from the novel, the 1956 movie, or one of several subsequent
film versions). An unconscionably abridged version for the uninitiated: in
mid-19th century Massachusetts, the whaling ship Pequod sets sail under the leadership of
Captain Ahab, who lost a previous ship and half a leg to a huge white whale
named Moby-Dick. Ahab is obsessed with killing this whale. Novice seaman
Ishmael joins the crew. While scouring the seas for the elusive giant, the Pequod encounters other ships, including
the afflicted Rachel. Rachel’s crew had hunted Moby-Dick but
is now searching for a boatload of lost men, including the captain’s young son.
Ahab refuses to help, pressing on with his own quest. Eventually the white
whale is sighted and chased. Moby-Dick fights back, crushes several boats, and
destroys the Pequod in a final gory
battle between Ahab and the leviathan. Only Ishmael survives, to be rescued by
the crew of the Rachel.

Director Scott Palmer is notorious for deliberately
challenging gender conventions in his casting, and the 12-person cast is split
evenly between women and men – with a woman (Kymberli Colbourne) in the role of
Captain Ahab. Moby-Dick, Rehearsed
provides a play within a play, with Colbourne playing the overbearing leading
lady of an acting troupe rehearsing King
Lear. The star suddenly decides to switch stories to Moby-Dick, thoroughly confusing the stage manager and the rest of
the company. After some casual backstage talk, the troupe bravely launches into
a rehearsal of the new show. Without appropriate costumes, sets or props both cast
and audience are allowed only imagination (augmented by ladders, sticks, and
flags) to create the illusion of the whaling ship, the vast Pacific, and the great white whale. Watching the group
transform itself from a bickering acting troupe into a cohesive unit nicely
parallels the ship’s crew as its members gradually unite in support of Ahab’s
insane quest.

The show’s lighter moments come during the backstage banter
phase, primarily from Peter Schuyler (“Serious Actor/Starbuck”), David Heath
(“Old Pro, Peleg”), and Eric St. Cyr (“Cynical Actor/Queequeg”). While Welles
took most of the dialogue directly from Melville’s work, this segment allows
the playwright to express a few thoughts of his own, including a sly dig at
critics. A particularly astute moment comes when, in response to a comment
about the need for theater, a character replies, “Nobody ever needed the theater — except us. Have you
ever heard of an unemployed audience?”

Once
the play-within-a-play moves into high gear, the women own the wrenching emotional
content, while the men hurl themselves into the demanding physicality of
creating ship and sea. Colbourne’s performance as Ahab and Father Mapple is
shattering; the Leading Lady gets lost in the intensity and insane passion of her
roles. Insanity also drives two of the other women – Arianne Jacques (“Stage
Manager/Elijah”) and Cassie Greer (“Young Actress/Pip”). Jacques brings a keening hysteria to her
prophetic pronouncements, while Greer uses a plaintive, little-boy-lost delivery
that draws the audience to the quiet, touching relationship between Ahab and
Pip. Of the women, only Jessi Walters (“Ishmael”) lacks a touch of madness; as
the only survivor, she ends up in the comparatively flat role of narrator.

Early
in the show, cast members complain about the absence of an orchestra, as they
will be forced to sing the show’s songs a
cappella. While Moby-Dick, Rehearsed
is certainly not a musical, and there are a few outside instrumental effects,
the leads and ensemble work in the vocals are exquisite. The hymn and whaling songs
are hauntingly powerful, and the whale’s final lament almost brought me to
tears (of course, I’m the sort who always roots for the whale!).

Successfully
creating the appearance of a spontaneous production is no mean feat. Lighting
designer Molly Stowe, scenic designer Megan Wilkerson, and technical director
Nate Patterson all play key roles in evoking the nonexistent ship, sea, and whale.
Once again, Scott Palmer has pulled together a complex, rarely seen, and compelling
piece of theater that entertains his audience while expanding their
understanding of the art of theater.

Bag & Baggage’s Moby-Dick,
Rehearsed is playing at Hillsboro’s Venetian Theatre, 253 E. Main Street,
through March 20th, with performances Thursday through Saturday at 7:30pm, Sunday at 2:00pm.

The title The
Philadelphia Story used to conjure up images of Katherine Hepburn, Cary
Grant, and Jimmy Stewart on film in the classic 1940 romantic comedy. These
days, people’s first reaction is more likely to be “you mean Philadelphia, the
Tom Hanks movie about AIDS?” Director
Doreen Lundberg at Beaverton Civic Theatre is doing her part to redress this
grievous slight by offering a thoroughly engaging version of playwright Philip
Barry’s original work. The play (also starring Katherine Hepburn) opened on
Broadway in 1939 and ran for an impressive 417 performances; while the
overwhelming success of the subsequent movie ultimately overshadowed the
original stage version, both are well worth watching.

The Philadelphia Story
tells a tale of the Lord family, members of Philadelphia’s old money “main
line” set. Stubborn and judgmental elder daughter Tracy has a taste for the
unconventional – she wears trousers, astonished the local socialites two years
previously by eloping with neighbor C. K. Dexter Haven (then added fuel to the
fire by divorcing him), and is now on the eve of her wedding to the rigidly
upright, very plebian and nouveau riche George Kittredge. Efforts to block an
obviously unsuitable match come from several corners, including her younger
sister Dinah, quirky Uncle Willie, and ex-husband Dex. Mike Connor and Liz
Imbrie, two reporters from a tacky tabloid are on site (supposedly incognito,
but everybody is in on the deception) to write up the wedding (“The
Philadelphia Story”) for their scandal rag, and their presence is tolerated as
part of an elaborate bargain to keep the magazine from publishing the shocking
details of an affair between family patriarch Seth Lord and a New York dancer.
Tracy’s drunken midnight swim with reporter Mike throws a monkey wrench into
the wedding plans – not a trivial problem, since she had already cheated
everyone out of a wedding two years earlier – but of course in the end it all
works out nicely, although not exactly as planned.

It must be exceptionally challenging to bring an individual
take to the role of Tracy Lord, as it’s so closely associate with Hepburn’s
performance (and was actually written for her). Actor Erin Bickler has the advantage
that she bears little physical resemblance to her iconic predecessor, and she
has enough performing experience that she knows how to pay homage without
imitation. Like some other cast members, she is at her funniest when her
character is engaged in deliberate parody of her position as an elitist
socialite. However, the real star for me is Tracy’s younger sister Dinah (Allie
Andresen). Andresen is beyond charming as the enthusiastic, slightly gawky
adolescent trying to emulate her idolized sister’s sophisticated, world-weary
ennui, and she delivers some hilarious malapropisms with perfect timing and naïveté.

Dan Kelsey (“Uncle Willie”) is another
exceptionally fun character to watch as he melds his wicked sense of humor with
his genuine fondness for the Lord girls – illustrated perfectly when he drily
emulates Dinah’s mispronunciation of “illicit.”

Speaking of dry, there’s Nolan Morantte (C. K. Dexter Haven).
Like Bickler, he’s got big shoes to fill – his character is most identified
with the movie portrayal by the great Cary Grant. Morantte has just the right
touch – cool, restrained, seemingly uninvolved and affectionately contemptuous while
he subtly ensures the right outcome for his soon-to-be-ex-wife. For most of
three acts it is not obvious that he still loves her – but that’s exactly how
the role needs to be played.

Set designer Alex Woodard has done a nice job of capturing
the “old money” feel of the Lord home, and the three-act format allows for the
major scene changes to take place during intermission, so there are no
scene-change delays. Tonja Schreiber’s costumes are a real asset – capturing
the differences in social class between reporters and socialites, George
Kittredge’s tightly wound stuffiness and Dexter Haven’s casual elan, and the
rebellious flavor of the two Lord girls.

Director Lundberg has assembled a cast and crew capable of
doing justice to a witty, sophisticated period piece that holds up really well.
I suspect that many audience members will be tempted, as I am, to track down
the movie so they can spend a bit more time with the Lord family.

The Philadelphia StorySongs runs through Saturday, March 12th
at the Beaverton City Library Auditorium, 12375 SW Fifth Street, Beaverton,
with performances at 7:30 p.m. on Fridays and Saturdays and 2:00 p.m. on
Sundays.